by Nathan Jones
The AI coughed politely. “Ah, I see your Pilot is tailored to your preferences to behave in that manner.”
“My preferences?” he repeated incredulously. “Why would I want to put up with that?”
“I'm sure I don't know,” the ship's computer said primly. “Although I'm curious as to why you haven't changed it if you dislike it so much.”
Tycho opened his mouth, then closed it. Before he could think of an answer Callista swept into the room, smiling. “Much better,” she said. “Thanks for generously letting me see to my comforts first, Tych. Facilities are all yours.”
He wasted no time rushing into her stateroom, which she'd actually gone to the effort of decorating as opposed to his own, and into the facilities.
When he emerged he found Callista seated on a couch staring out the window, Bruce behind her swiftly and efficiently looping her long, silvery hair into the tight looped braids she'd worn for exercising.
Almost as if to discourage him from running his fingers through it the way he liked to do. Tycho honestly wasn't sure what to make of her decision to do that now. Was it something he should address, a potential issue they needed to talk through?
The silvery-haired woman turned to him with a somewhat tight smile, almost as if she was nervous. “Just under an hour for this trip,” she said. “Only one rift jump.”
Well that was a relief. “I assume Bruce has anti-nausea medication ready?” he said as he settled down next to her.
She frowned at him. “For a non-hub jump? Hardly seems necessary.”
The companion coughed politely as he finished creating the braids and stepped away. “Mister Boralene has a genetic vulnerability to rift travel, Callista. He feels extreme discomfort during jumps.”
“Oh.” She leaned forward to rest a sympathetic hand on Tycho's arm. “You poor dear, that must be awful.”
He smiled in return and scooted closer to slip an arm around her shoulders, leaning down to kiss her neck. “It helps if I have something to distract me,” he murmured.
To his surprise Callista squirmed out of his arms and shifted to the other side of the couch, expression uncomfortable. Tycho stared at her in surprise. “Sorry,” he said, although he wasn't sure exactly what for. “Are you all right?”
“It's real life, Tych,” she said with a strained smile. “Taking it slow, remember?”
Wait, what? He hadn't known that was still a thing. “I didn't realize. I hope I didn't offend you.”
“No, no!” She said. “I think we should just be careful to communicate everything clearly, given our circumstances. We have a unique situation, a real relationship with real humans, which means we need to carefully take each other's wants and needs into consideration.”
“Of course.” Tycho settled back, trying not to feel disappointed.
A brief, somewhat uncomfortable silence settled. “A war has started up on Earth,” Callista eventually said quietly. Then she shook her head. “Or maybe I should say another one.”
He felt a heaviness in his own heart. “What scale?”
“Large enough to cost priceless human lives,” the silvery-haired woman replied sharply. “Is a hundred any less tragic than a hundred million?”
Rationally of course it was, but he got the point she was trying to make. “Their civilization will need to advance beyond war and other horrors, like ours did.”
“Will it? Mister Flittige didn't seem to think it was happening anytime soon.”
Tycho shifted uncomfortably. “Maybe they'll surprise us.”
“Maybe they shouldn't have to.” Her gray eyes blazed at him. “We could be on that planet right now! Or at least our AI caretakers could be. They could be solving the hunger, the disease, the death and suffering. Lifting those people out of squalor and into paradise. But apparently humanity hasn't learned compassion even after tens of thousands of years, because the majority of people want to leave them alone to their misery!”
Tycho could almost hear the unspoken “thanks to you” in her words. He forced himself not to get defensive, although it was hard. “So you only see the bad in the way they live, and think we're perfect?”
“The way our society is now isn't perfect,” Callista snapped. “No one argues it doesn't have problems, Tych, and it's especially obvious when it comes to people like you.”
“What's that supposed to mean?” he demanded.
She ignored him. “But it's still better than any alternative we've found. As close to perfect as we can get. And for it to be as good as it is we have to accept it and support it. We have to be better than the alternatives. Otherwise we become-” she shuddered and pointed vaguely out her window. “Earth.”
Fighting his temper, Tycho called up his presentation on her stateroom's display and scrolled through it until he found the video clips that had struck him most solidly, playing them all in their own sections. “Earth? You mean sweethearts strolling through a park with the glow of new love? Mothers cuddling their babies? Fathers carrying laughing children on their shoulders? Entire communities gathering to celebrate events that mean something to them?”
He swept his hand across her tastefully decorated stateroom. “You think this is better? Hiding in luxurious prisons and playing let's pretend we're normal humans with companions? Resigned to the fact that the only significant lifelong relationships most of us will ever have is with robotic playthings that don't feel anything for us and never will?”
Callista opened her mouth, then shut it, glancing uncomfortably at Bruce. “You'd trade that for murder, rape, genocide, war?” she finally whispered. “For abuse and theft and mistrust and fear and pain and misery and ultimately an early grave?”
It was Tycho's turn to hesitate. Then he slowly leaned forward and rested a hand on her shoulder, trying not to be stung at how she flinched. “This is human contact,” he said softly, aware as he said it of how soft and warm she felt beneath his hand. Somehow more real than she did in full immersion. Or than Eva ever had, for that matter.
The silvery-haired woman trembled slightly at his touch. “I know what that is,” she said, trying for irritable but straying into breathlessness. For once she didn't sound a hundred percent self-assured, and he noticed she didn't try to shrug off his hand. “I've had dozens of affairs with humans from all over the galaxy.”
“And this is the same as that?” he asked quietly. “You and all your lovers getting from each other the exact same cheap gratification you could get from companions or full immersion. Then walking away smug about the fact that you've found something more real than what everyone else has.”
Callista finally shrugged his hand away, looking stung. “You think I couldn't have whatever it is you and I have with a companion just as easily?” she snapped. “That I couldn't find one to provide me with engaging conversations and be sexually frustrated by? What exactly is this “real” you keep going on about, and why is it so much better than what I have now?”
She whirled and swept her hand across the room like he had. “I'm here, this is what I'm experiencing. That's reality. When it's pleasant I'm happy, when it's unpleasant it's because I'm with you! Your “reality” seems like an excuse to take a serious downgrade in happiness and contentment.”
Tycho opened his mouth, but like the woman had earlier he couldn't think of an argument. After several uncomfortable seconds he cleared his throat. “Then forget about me for a moment. Who else in your life, anyone, has truly cared about you and treated you with love and affection that wasn't just fleeting indulgence? Who since your parents?”
Callista's normally composed face crumpled with an unfamiliar sort of vulnerability, maybe even pain. “Let's change the subject,” she said quietly.
He should've agreed, but he was still smarting from her earlier comments. “Because I have a point?”
“Because you're saying hurtful things.” To his shock tears had filled his lover's eyes. She turned away, mortified. “Please go.”
He stared at her in bewilderm
ent. What was going on here? What had he said?
Since he didn't seem to be leaving Bruce took a protective step forward to put himself in front of Callista, looking at him with silent warning. That made Tycho step back, his confusion turning to shame.
Being rude to Eva when he'd been grieving Laird had been bad enough, but now he was making someone who could actually feel things cry. “I'm sorry,” he said quietly. “I didn't mean-”
“Miss Ensom asked you to leave,” Bruce said in a quiet, firm voice.
Tycho quickly left the stateroom, closely followed by the companion, who shut the door behind them. At that point Tycho realized leaving was a bit awkward since he was still on Callista's ship. He supposed he could sit around in of the vessel's guest rooms, but after his bewildering argument with his lover he didn't really want to be there anymore.
Thankfully the AIs seemed to have that covered. Bruce silently led him to the airlock in the cargo area at the back of the ship, where he discovered Pilot, or Pilots he supposed, had synced the ships together so he could move over to his own.
As he passed through the airlock he paused and looked back at the companion. Bruce's perfectly sculpted features were inscrutable, hardly welcoming. “The last thing I'd ever want is to hurt her,” he said.
“It appears your intentions did not match your actions in this instance,” Bruce replied. At the companion's unspoken command the airlock doors closed just inches from Tycho's face, and he watched with a heavy heart as the two ships decoupled and began to move away from each other.
The simple piloting maneuver seemed oddly foreboding given his current circumstances.
Chapter Fourteen
Apart
Loran was waiting for Tycho in his ship's cargo bay when he finally turned away from the airlock's window.
The house companion had taken on the bulk of Eva's duties recently; ever since Tycho had “broken up” with his adult companion she'd been erring on the side of caution and giving him plenty of space, to the point where he barely saw her.
On one hand it hurt to be so distant from his closest friend and confidant of several years, and he found himself missing her familiar comforting presence. But on the other it was a relief to not be conflicted by his lingering desire for her, teased by the question of whether it would really be all that outrageous to indulge himself.
After all, while he hadn't asked he wouldn't have been surprised to find that Callista was still meeting her physical needs with Bruce. And why wouldn't she be?
The reminder of his argument with the silvery-haired woman soured his mood, and he scowled and started for his stateroom. “What would you say I should do when a woman throws me off her ship?” he asked Loran.
“Leave?” his companion said wryly. At Tycho's less than amused look he shrugged. “Perseverance and persistence, I guess. If the argument's nothing serious it may just need time for cooler heads to prevail, and then you can reconcile.”
Tycho grunted. “I just realized how much I enjoy our talks, Loran. We really haven't spoken much since Eva arrived.”
“To be expected. Although I'm always around if you find you want to change that.” His companion paused. “On that subject, do you want to talk about this argument with Miss Ensom?”
“Not in the slightest.” Tycho threw himself onto his bed and burrowed into the covers, staring blankly at the windows and barely seeing the magnified cosmic phenomena displayed there. He wasn't sure how long he stayed like that, but when he passed through the rift it was almost a relief.
Any distraction, even having his mind turned inside out, was a welcome one from the pain and uncertainty over his and Callista's troubles. He felt like he was losing her, like he had been ever since they'd become intimate. It seemed like that should've brought them closer together, but instead the opposite had happened.
And he didn't know what to do about it.
The ship landing came as a surprise. Tycho dragged himself out of bed and down the ramp with Loran trailing behind. But after only a few steps he abruptly veered away from the front doors of the manor where he'd been headed. “You know what? I'm going to visit Lady. Give the other girl in my life the attention she deserves.”
The spur of the moment decision immediately made him feel a bit better. He'd been sort of neglecting his faithful mastiff ever since the whirlwind discovery of Earth and his full immersion intimacy with Callista, and even though Eva and Loran had been attentively caring for the dog she deserved better than that.
He'd take her for a walk around the estate, throw some sticks, shower her with a responsible number of treats. Some good quality time together.
As he'd hoped Lady was overjoyed to see him. And her unreserved affection made him feel a bit better about the events on Callista's ship. He spent the rest of the day with his dog; while he felt a nagging worry that he might want to try to talk to Callista, work out whatever this was, he somehow couldn't bring himself to try for a face-to-face or even send a message.
A somewhat sullen part of him wondered why he always had to be the one to reach out. Maybe it was her turn to try a romantic gesture this time.
But he received no notifications about any communication from the silvery-haired woman; around noon, well after bedtime with the new sleeping schedule he'd adopted to accommodate his lover, he returned Lady to her yard and drove wearily back to his manor to try to get some sleep.
He wondered if Loran was any good at massages. He needed something to help him relax, and at the moment he wasn't sure he could trust himself with Eva if she had her hands all over his body.
His house companion was waiting at the entrance when the ground car parked in its spot. Almost as soon as Tycho exited the vehicle Loran hurried forward. “You have a message from Miss Ensom.”
Tycho stared in surprise, checking his display; still no notifications. “What? When?” he demanded. “Why didn't you tell me?”
Loran looked a bit sheepish. “She requested I deliver it to you when you returned to the manor. Which, ah, you delayed doing for quite an extended period.”
Cursing, Tycho rushed inside and settled on the couch in his living area, pulling the message up. It was a simple line of text: “Please call me at your convenience.”
He immediately requested a face-to-face with Callista. And to his surprise rather than being connected to Bruce to arrange to speak with her, the silvery-haired woman personally appeared. Incredibly quickly considering she was responding to an incoming face-to-face, too.
Tycho searched her lovely features with some apprehension. Her expression wasn't chilly, which was a relief, but she was definitely making an effort to control her emotions. “Bruce informs me that it's unfair to fault you for saying something when you weren't aware it might be hurtful,” she said stiffly, as usual without any sort of greeting. “I suppose I should let you know so you can avoid mentioning it in the future.”
“Okay,” Tycho said cautiously.
“It's not a conversation I feel comfortable having in person,” she continued. “I just thought you should be aware of my personal history so you avoid saying further hurtful things.” She paused as if gathering her courage, then spoke slowly and firmly as if the words were rehearsed. “When I was conceived in a third party facility, my father was initially planned to be my custodial parent. He backed out at the last second, so I've been raised by companions my entire life. Neither of my parents has ever reached out to me to speak, or responded to my attempts to contact them.”
Given how his lover had responded to mentions of parents in the past Tycho realized her harsh reaction to him going after her about her parents made sense. Especially when they'd been talking about trust, and people's hesitancy to get to know people in real life because of painful experiences with their parents.
It also raised an interesting thought, which was that everyone seemed to insist that the lack of a relatively few good experiences was a justifiable sacrifice if it meant completely avoiding bad ones. And yet here was Callis
ta, who'd never had any experiences at all with her parents, and yet felt obvious pain at not having them in her life.
It was, he felt, an important realization. Although now was obviously not the time to talk about it with Callista. “Thank you for telling me. I'm sorry for anything I might've said in the past that raised painful memories.” He hesitated. “And I'm glad you felt close enough to me to share this.”
The silvery-haired woman's face had begun to relax, even show some warmth, but now she tensed it into that careful rigid mask again. She hesitated, obviously deeply reluctant, then took a deep breath and spoke in a rush. “Which brings me to my next point. I think we should call off our courtship. Not just our romantic encounters in full immersion but our dates in real life.” She looked anguished for a moment, then continued firmly. “Maybe stop the visits altogether.”
Her words hit Tycho harder than Hollan ever had, and he found himself gripping the arm of his couch as he stared at the display in shock. “What?”
Callista's rigid expression crumpled into anguish again. “I think it would be for the best.”
“Why?” he demanded, fighting a sudden flood of confusion and hurt. And a bit of anger. “What did I do? Is this because of what I said about your parents? Now that I understand I won't-”
“It's not that!” she snapped, suddenly angry as well. “It's nothing to do with you at all, Tycho! It's just what needs to happen, that's all.”
Tycho bit his cheek against his surging emotions, feeling tears stinging his eyes. “Please, Calli, at least tell me why. Don't I deserve that much?”
Callista looked away from his pleading expression. “I've never experienced rejection,” she whispered, a tear slipping down her cheek. “I've never felt the pain of heartbreak. That's the dark side of romance, the side I'm terrified of. That's why I save all my romantic little notions for Bruce, who I know will never make me regret it.”
She finally looked back at him, smoky eyes shimmering with tears in a way he found beautiful and broke his heart all at once. “I've been opening up to you, Tych, letting you see my romantic side. Because I think you're right, that we're missing something in our lives and it's only other humans who can give it to us.”
